


More Than A Reasonable Man Should Have To Take!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 04:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: The young Army Lieutenant stared at the rich amber of the whiskey in his glass before taking a deep swallow.  Once, he'd thought the masks got in the way, prevented them from forming the close ties they needed in order to survive.  He'd even been glad when the masks gradually started coming off.  Now?  Sometimes Craig Garrison was of the considered opinion that if one more person dropped one more damned mask around him, he was going to just sit down and scream. Surely everyone would understand that, wouldn't they??!





	More Than A Reasonable Man Should Have To Take!

Sometimes Craig Garrison was of the considered opinion that if one more person dropped one more damned mask around him, he was going to just sit down and scream.

No, really. I mean, he'd accepted Major Kevin Richards loosening up to the point of becoming a friend; in fact, thinking over just how MUCH Richards had loosened up, he was frequently amazed. He was pleased that Julie Richards had turned out to be an intelligent and somewhat crafty young woman, a skilled actress with a sly sense of humor and a solid sense of the absurd, not the total ditz she'd pretended to be when they'd first met.

He was happy that Chief actually smiled now and had slowly but eagerly developed new skills and interests, chess and reading being only two of many. He'd eagerly accepted Actor climbing at least half-way, maybe even three-quarters the way down off his high-horse on occasion.

He'd not only accepted, he'd thrilled at just how Goniff had finally discarded so many of those masks he'd worn for so long. Garrison himself had discarded a few of his own masks, though primarily only in private still.

Only Casino seemed much the same as when he'd arrived, though even he had become a little more open; it wasn't that the safecracker was still holding much back, it's just that he'd never bothered to hide all that much in the first place, well, except for his soft heart that still embarrassed him on occasion and his amazingly well-diversified selection of so-called 'reading material'. Goniff had shaken his head once, told Garrison, "blimey, Craig! It's like 'e walked into one a the 'specialty shops' and just went down the 'eadings, and said, "gimme two or three a each!" I 'eard a being well-rounded, but that don't 'alf cover it!"

He'd even taken with what he thought was amazing equanimity all the slightly (well, very) odd encounters with all those bizarre individuals (entities?) he'd never expected to have met (or in some cases, never thought even to exist!).

But frankly, Craig Garrison thought he'd taken all a reasonable man, all even an unreasonably-flexible man could be expected to take. And now this? No, this was just too much to ask of a man! One, two, three, four masks, all hitting the floor with one gigantic shwoosh! And to have Goniff just stand there, beaming, telling them all "bloody 'ell, she's gorgeous!" while they froze, waiting for him to be torn to bloody shreds, that was just the final straw! And Ciena's translation, after the fact, well that hadn't helped one damned bit! I mean seriously? Really???

He pulled the bottle closer, tipped out another round into each of the glasses lined up around the table, and drank his in one gulp with an accompanying shudder. He closed his eyes and thought about how it all had started.

**

"Ruddy 'ell! I know it was in 'ere, saw it last time I went roaming! No reason for anyone to go amovin it! Ruddy 'ell" he groaned, knowing what this meant. He took the time to look through some of the other rooms, and had his suspicions confirmed. There were things missing, not a lot, not like any one room had been emptied or anything, but a bit here and there, enough for a good haul at the high-end fences, he knew. And, of course, once it was discovered, he also knew just who would be blamed for it. Question was, just what was he gonna do about it?

First thing, of course, check with the guys, make sure none of them had gotten frisky with the stuff, though he didn't think that, not really. They'd stuck to the deal they had with the Warden, well, pretty much anyway, and this, stealing from their own bed-down, really stealing, not just 'borrowing' something for a bit, well that just wasn't smart, and none of the guys were stupid. He made his way back through that sliding door he'd found, the one that let him avoid that main locked door, not that it would have slowed him down much going that way, knowing where the Sergeant Major hid the keys, and him paying attention when Casino had started showing him some of the safecracker's tricks, but this was more interesting, more fun. He headed back down the hall toward the Common Room, thinking to lay out the question to the guys, only to hear Garrison yelling for them to move it, they were headed out, and he dashed to the dorm to get his pack, change into fresh clothes, knowing he'd not be getting any others til they got back more than likely.

It was in that tiny shed in France that he finally brought up the subject, being as how they had nothing else to do til time to hit the target. He couldn't think of a good way to approach the problem, so he just waded in.

"Ei, guys, any of you nicked a bunch a stuff from the locked side recently?"

Well, it wasn't a subtle approach, so Meghada and her Clan ways were rubbing off on him maybe. He received blank stares, puzzled frowns from the guys, and an exasperated "what are you talking about? If you guys . . ." from Garrison.

Goniff ducked his head, wrinkling up his nose, {"yeah, that went well! Now I gotta tell em just 'ow I know things are going missing!"} He sighed and proceeded to bare his chest, figuratively speaking of course, it being a damn cold night and all.

Garrison wasn't happy with him; well, he hadn't expected him to be, but their commander was able to get past that to the bigger question.

"And you don't know anything about this?" came the stern question, and the reply from each of the guys was a solid, "no, not a thing," and for once, he thought they were telling the truth. It didn't make sense to foul their own nest. Oh, he knew Goniff made off with a trinket or two, but the pickpocket rotated them; he'd lift something to play with for awhile, then put it back and take something else. Garrison knew about the silver ashtray under Casino's cot that he used for a forbidden smoke after lights out, that medieval long blade under Chief's thin mattress, the one with perfect balance that he was using as a pattern to improve his own blade, and Actor had that painted miniature of an Italian villa propped up on the table he kept his pipe on, the one that brought that oddly wistful expression to his face when he'd look at it. All of those would be returned when they left the Mansion, though; this, what Goniff was talking about, it was wholesale theft, and that was a real problem. He shook his head, "well, we'll deal with it when we get back. Right now, settle down, get some rest; we head out in two hours."

When they got back to the Mansion, Garrison got out the inventory he'd been given when he took charge here. They had been of two minds about giving it to him, the Ministry, wondering whether he'd lose track of it and the guys would use it as a 'shopping list', or whether Garrison could use it to keep track and make sure no one DID go shopping. He pondered whether to let the Sergeant Major in on this little problem, and decided he'd better. He trusted the man, more than he ever thought he would, certainly didn't think he was part of this mess, and he'd need his help, along with the guys to tackle the cross-checking of this list. And, besides, if it wasn't his guys, and he was sure it wasn't, then somehow this was happening under the Sergeant Major's nose, which gave the noncom a vested interest.

He called him in, poured them both a drink, and explained the situation. After he listened to the inevitable blow-up and sputtering, they looked at each other and the question of how to take the inventory was discussed, plans made, the list divided, a copy made, and the guys called in. After a stern lecture, which Casino could have probably recited word for word BEFORE it was given, if the roll of his eyes were any indication, they were each given a page and told to go looking. Anything not where it should be, make a note, then those would be collected, and a specific search for the missing items would be made, in case they just got shifted around.

Garrison sat looking at the list they had so far of what was missing. {"Shit! There's no way the Brass isn't going to try and pin this on the guys! Six small but valuable paintings, a tidy amount of silver whatevers, three tapestries, a small collection of Faberge eggs, three trays of very valuable coins - more than a third of the total collection, one entire stamp collection - seven portfolio's!. Never mind the books, we didn't have time to go through those yet. All small stuff, portable, but worth a small fortune taken all together."}

He looked up at the Sergeant Major, handed over the list and watched the noncom's face go dead white. "They'll 'ave us all in jail for this one, Lieutenant. Even if we could prove the guys didn't 'ave anything to do with this, which beggin you're pardon I don't see any way of doing, it's all still gone." He looked stricken, "it was my responsibility; I double checked the inventory first thing, made sure everything was there, so it's not like the owners tried to pull a wheedle. And they're going to be looking at everyone who's been in and out, and that's going to bring in your sister and the O'Donnell girls, Dr. Riley, and all else."

"Alright, so let's talk to the experts," rising and yelling down the hall, "my office, on the double!" When the uneasy men made their way into the room, he motioned them to seats, "alright, we know at least part of what's gone; now, let's figure out how it happened. If YOU didn't take it," holding up his hand and nodding at their loud protests, "yes, I don't believe you did; but if you didn't, if I didn't and the Sergeant Major doesn't know anything about it, then how? Once we know how, maybe we can figure out WHO! AND, how we catch them before we end up in the stockade." 

Unfortunately, before they got too far, HQ was on the phone, and they were headed out again. The Sergeant Major made a point to keep an eye open, but not to do anything to let on what what they'd learned. Whether that was good or bad, no one ever knew, given what happened next. The team was still gone; the Sergeant Major had both Private Jenkins and Private Perkins in the office, discussing the duty roster, when he got the call from the gate. When the staff car and truck from the Ministry pulled up in front, he met the three in charge at the door, watching with a frown as his guards were ordered into the truck, being replaced with fresh guards. He turned to the Major in charge, the one who'd been here once a month or so for the past couple of months just doing a walk-through with his aides, to ask for an explanation, to be greeted with a cold smile and a loaded revolver.

***

They pulled in through the gates, dead tired, dirty, hungry. Ciena was with them; she'd finished a job about the same time, ran across them at HQ during their debriefing and bummed a ride. The other sisters were all ensconced at the Cottage, and she wanted to join them, let them help her get the details of this last mission, a bad one, off her mind. She also had a small package for the Sergeant Major, a payoff from some bet she wouldn't disclose to them, except to giggle over with a really sly grin at Garrison, which would have made him more than a little uneasy if he wasn't so damn tired, so came along to the Mansion with them; the Cottage was just a bit away, if she didn't feel like walking over, though she thought the walk might clear her head, she'd call and have one of her sisters pick her up; she'd ridden tucked down on the floorboards in the back, there being no other room, and her being well satisfied to do so; she'd refused Goniff's offer to switch with her; she fit more easily, especially since he tended to fidget so, bless him, and it was a lot better, in her mind, than searching out a vehicle and making that long drive by herself! 

Garrison checked in with the guard at the gate, getting a nod and wave through, saw him reach for the phone and knew the Sergeant Major was being alerted to their arrival. The drive to the front entrance was made in silence. All any of the guys could think of was a stiff drink and dropping into their beds; showers could wait til they woke up; they'd probably fall asleep standing up if they tried to take them now. Garrison noticed there were fewer guards around than usual, and he hadn't recognized the guard at the gate, but sometimes the Sergeant Major granted his men leave around the missions, maybe got in a temporary replacement or two to allow that to happen, since there wasn't a lot for them to do with the team gone, and they all preferred their regulars around when the team was in residence. He was just thinking that through as they walked through the big front door, and all hell broke loose. 

They were caught off-guard, not expecting an attack in what passed as home for them now, no weapons at the ready since they weren't on mission; they weren't thinking clearly, and so tired as to be clumsy in their own defense. Ciena wasn't in much better shape than they were, so she wouldn't have been much help in the debacle, but she wasn't with them. She'd been distracted by a low growl off to the side of the entrance and had let the guys go ahead. She'd just reached the dark shape sitting at the end of a chain, tethered to one of those stone statues the owners had seen fit to clutter the place up with, just had time to wonder where the big she-mastiff had come from, when she heard the commotion and dashed back, careful to keep to the shadows, in time to hear a shot, see Garrison being laid out by a vicious blow to the head, Goniff following in short order as he leapt to the defense. Actor was stretched out on the tile floor, Casino crumpled by the door, blood pooling under him, and Chief on his knees, just getting a final blow across his shoulders to put him down. She cursed the fact that she didn't have a pistol, but another fast glance showed far more enemies than a pistol would hold bullets. She heard, "dump them in that warehouse by the orchards where we've stashed the others. See that they're tied tight; these guys are a hell of a lot more dangerous than those play soldiers they had running around here, so tell Frank and Duke to stay sharp." 

She crept back into the shadows, silently undressed and tucked her clothes at the base of the shrubs. The big mastiff tethered on that chain just stared, but didn't bark, or growl or even move. She laid back down and put her head on her paws, presumably to think about what she'd just seen, which was unique in her memory. None of the guards noticed the low-moving, furtive shape making its way through the shadows, through that cut in the rock Chief had showed her as his 'safe passage', and away. The Cottage was only a few minutes from here, help was that close if her sisters were there; if not there, possibly at the pub, but she could feel them close, so she hurried to them, to repell the invasion, to retrieve the members of their family from the enemy.

***  
Garrison blinked his eyes, trying to clear the blurr, shook his head and immediately regretted it as the pain and sickness overcame him. He finally settled for just opening his eyes again, and breathing, thinking that was all he needed to do for a minute.

"Ei, Warden, you awake now?" came softly from beside him, and he carefully turned his head to see his pickpocket sitting next to him, arms tied tightly behind him.

"Yeah, I think so. Where are the others?" getting a pointing of the chin directing him to turn his head in the other direction. He looked, trying to make some sense of what he was seeing. Chief and Actor were almost sitting on Casino, for some reason, which didn't make any sense, til he saw the blood on the floor.

"How bad?" he demanded, and Actor looked over at him.

"Glad to see you are back with us. It's not too bad, at least it wouldn't be if I could get to it to tend it properly, but the way we are tied makes it difficult."

Goniff chimed in, "tried to convince them to let Actor loose to do that, but they got real pissy about it," rubbing a darkening bruise on his jaw against his shoulder.

"We've got it staunched, and are keeping pressure on; hopefully that will do the trick. We tried untieing ourselves, and they didn't much like that either," Actor told him, wincing, and Garrison knew they'd taken some damage then too, aside from the initial attack.

He frowned, looked around, puzzled then alarmed, well even more than he had been, "where's . . ." to get a small but frantic shake of the head and a wide eyed warning from the Englishman.

"Sergeant Major? 'E's over there, 'im and the rest of the guards, in that little side room. Must be really crammed in there if they 'ad the regular number on as usual; we ain't seen em, just 'eard that lot talking about it. That room's not big enough for three gnats, unless they're real friendly like. . . Got the stuff they've snaffled in the old storage shed off to the back . . ." Goniff kept chattering, nervous-like, trying to be sure Garrison knew NOT to mention the O'Donnell woman, trying to give him as much pertinent information as he could about the situation. Garrison spared a quick nod of appreciation and understanding to the slender blond. {"Amazing that I used to think he just wasn't very bright! Well, I used to think a lot of things."}

Then his thoughts shifted to the woman who'd been with them. {"She got away?? That's the only thing I can think of, but you know, she WAS behind us. I'm just glad she didn't try to take on that whole crew. It wouldn't have done any good, for her or for us."} He tested his own bonds, found them discouragingly tight, so much so that he was having trouble feeling his fingers now.

Through the creaky door came a man, by his bearing probably the one in charge, probably military or ex-military. He looked slightly familiar and Garrison thought he'd seen him in the halls up at HQ. This was starting to make some sense; who better to know what was here, who better to be able to get on the grounds, who better to frame him and the guys? The name escaped him, {"maybe never even knew it; I see lots of people up there, faces get familiar, but never really meet them."} The man was wearing a Major's uniform, US Army; cold faced, black hair, dark eyes, tall, even distinguished looking with a small moustache. A smile, superior, confident, crossed his face.

"Well, Lieutenant, I'd thought for us to be out of here before you returned; it's unfortunate for you that you got back so quickly."

Garrison's voice was rough, husky from needing water, inhaling the dust from the floor he'd been tossed on, "and now what? You've made your haul and you're gone? What about the guards, my men?" He was afraid he knew the answer, but was hoping this man wasn't interested in leaving all that many bodies behind him.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that, not right now. Since you've seen us, we won't be able to make the last few trips we'd planned; we'll just have to get as much as we can this time. Some of my men went to get another couple of trucks, just to be sure we don't have to leave anything really enticing behind. Just sit back and relax, Lieutenant; you and your men look tired, long mission I presume; you could use the rest," with a mocking solicitude that made Garrison want to punch him.

"At least have Actor untied, so he can take care of Casino," he urgently requested.

"Oh, I think not. Of course, if you like, I could 'take care of' Casino, myself, right now, so you wouldn't have to worry so," and gave a wicked smile as he pulled his gun.

Garrison gathered himself to leap in between, "No!"

"Very well, then, we'll just go with the status quo, shall we?" and turned to leave, then turned back. "Oh, there is a safe inside; we haven't been able to open it. I think it would only be hospitable if you had your safecracker do that for us."

"Well, unfortunately, you seem to have damaged my safecracker, you know," Garrison threw back with some venom.

"Ah, so it's that one. Well, a little birdie told me you've acquired some bit of skill along those lines, learning all sorts of nefarious doings from these pet cons of yours, but to think on it, I rather think you'd have the combination; seems like the sort of thing they'd give the man in charge, doesn't it."

He motioned two of his men forward, had them grab Garrison to pull him up to his feet. A snarl and a quick movement from Goniff had one of them turning toward the blond with an upraised rifle butt. "No! Goniff, stand down!" Garrison ordered sharply, trying to diffuse the situation, pushing in between the two. For a minute, he wasn't sure it had worked, but a nod from the Major had the guard backing away. Garrison took a deep breath; seeing his pickpocket get his skull caved in was not on his wish list, not now, not ever. He looked at him, at all of them, "I'll be back," and marched out. 

Up through the orchard, along the side path, into the Mansion by the kitchen door, "now, Lieutenant, let's go look at that safe, or would you just prefer to stop by your office for the combination?" Garrison saw the shadows move in the hallway, low to the floor, and then he was pushed aside violently, falling to his knees once he hit the wall, all to the accompaniment of snarls and cries of pain, sounds of a very brief battle, the coppery smell of blood, the overwhelming unmistakable stench of death filling the air, then silence. He stayed where he was, trying to make out the shadows, see where the danger lay before moving. 

"Are you hurt, Craig?" came a low, steady voice.

"Meghada??!"

"Of course, you were expecting maybe General Eisenhower?"

He breathed a deep sigh of relief, "actually, I much prefer you, something about that bald head, rather offputting, you know?" getting a low chuckle in return.

"Brief me," and he did as she undid the ropes from his hands, as she massaged the circulation back into them, as painful as that was. Ciena had already told her about the guys being in rough shape from the mission, then from what she'd seen before she ran for help; from the looks of the young offiicer, she'd been right on.

"Okay, they'll be expecting you to be tossed back in there after you open the safe; let's do just that," never doubting he'd be willing to return to his men, to walk back into the lion's den to ensure their safety. Soon he was ready to go back, the flattish cloth wrapped bundle tight against his belly under his now loosened uniform jacket. A few new bruises to his face, courtesy of a bit of fireplace ash, and he was ready to go. A loose wrap of the ropes back around his wrists, where they looked tight, but could be discarded rapidly, and he was ready to go.

"Where's Ciena, the others," he asked, to get a sly, totally wicked grin he couldn't interpret.

"They've a couple of things to take care of; they're around, don't worry," and she led him back down the hall. He got his first good look at the Major and his two henchmen, and his jaw dropped; it looked like they'd been taken down by a pack of wolves or wild dogs. He wondered if Estelle or some of her kind were visiting at the Cottage along with the sisters. He started to ask, then, decided he didn't need to know, not right now. He looked at her, she arched an amused brow, her sense of humor quite often taking a strange turn to his way of thinking, and they headed back out. 

She whispered the plan, "the guards between here and the warehouse should be out of the way by now. We go to the door, I open it, keeping back out of sight, and toss you in. Be careful how you land, don't dislodge that gift package, and don't get hurt, Craig! Goniff will scold me right hard if I let that happen, you know," with a brief warm kiss to his cheek, being sure not to smudge his 'bruises'. He laughed under his breath, having seen such a scolding being given in the past and had found it most amusing; he also remembered just where and how that scolding had ended up, too, with the three of them in that wide bed of hers, laughing their heads off! 

He gathered himself, and let himself be tossed inside the warehouse. He moved slowly when getting up, making out he was hurting far more than he was. He hunched, made his way over to his team, seeing their anxious eyes, seeing all there was to see in the look his Englishman was giving him. Facing so the guards couldn't see, he gave the eye signals he'd used with them all before, and saw them all relax slightly.

"How's Casino?"

"The bleeding's slowed, not stopped. He needs help," to stop talking when one of the dozen men still in the warehouse came closer.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't worry too much about him," and the barrel of the rifle came out to stroke along Chief's face, Chief pulling back sharply, the guard giving a slight chuckle. "You all have enough to worry about, worrying about yourselves," tilting his head to yell over to one of the others, "hey, Mitch, how much time you think we have til the others get back and we get started loading again?"

He was disappointed when Mitch walked over and gave him a push away from the men, "not that much time, Blackie. Gordon catches you playing when you're supposed to be working, he'll do you like he did Ramsey," and Blackie turned a little pale, but backed off. Mitch looked down at the men, one by one, appraisingly, then gave a smile Garrison didn't like one little bit, "pity, though. Maybe after we get everything loaded, Gordon'll think we deserve a little reward." He looked at them again, settling on Garrison, cocking one amused brow, "yeah, green eyes, maybe, huh?" chuckling as he moved back to his post.

"Warden . . ."

"Shhh, quiet." He had turned his back to the guys, and backed up to where he was almost leaning into Chief. Chief made no sound, there was no change of expression as he saw those bound hands suddenly become free.

"Here, let me up next to Casino. I want to see how bad he is," and in getting into position, was now where he was shielded from the view of the guards, where he could get to that bundle of blades, get at the ropes on Chief and Actor. He pressed a knife into each of their hands, and leaned back to access the situation again. Goniff was too far away, at least for now, but he knew all that activity meant something, so he stayed alert. 

Garrison was figuring out how to get to Goniff, when the odds suddenly turned against them, heavily. Two men came in the door, and headed up the stairs to the loft, joking loudly with the other men down below. He watched in sick horror as they pulled away a paulin, uncovered a machine gun tripod, already mounted with its gun, stacked with its coil of ammunition, all having been placed up there earlier, just waiting. He knew their chances just dropped to about zero; he knew these men had no intention of letting anyone walk away from this.

"Well, at least the Brass will know it wasn't us," came stoically from Actor.

"Don't believe it, Actor; they'll just put it down to a 'falling out among thieves', wanna bet?" came in a raspy voice from Goniff. He looked at Garrison, trying to say with a look all he wanted to say, wanted Craig to know, and Craig gave him just the tiniest smile, his green eyes meeting those pale blue ones. {"No need, I already know everything I need to know,"} regretting this was the end, that they had no more time together. Regretting that these men who had fought so hard, done so much, had no better reward than to be mowed down, butchered, like this. Oh, they'd try for a break, but he knew their chances were, well, impossible. Goniff was right, he knew; they'd probably still get the blame. Meghada would know differently, but there was no guarantee she would escape the carnage; she'd fight to the death for Goniff, he knew that; {"hell, probably for any and all of us!"}

There was a sound, just a creak, and the guards snapped to attention, "Mitch, check that out!"

Mitch made his way over to where the sound had come from, back in the deep shadows along the wall, "nothing, just a loose board flapping. Jeez, Doyle, you sure are jumpy. Getta grip; we got the guns, everyone else's tied up, we outnumber them, Craven's on the gate, what the hell could go wrong??!"

A couple of the other men gave nervous laughs, them having been in the business a lot longer than the arrogant young Mitch, well long enough to know that something can ALWAYS go wrong, and Mitch went back to his location beside the door to where the Sergeant Major and the guards were being held.

Tap, Tap. Tap, Tap, Tap. Everyone's eyes jumped to the tin roof, where the noise was coming from. Tap, Tap. Tap, Tap, Tap. One of the men manning the machine gun slowly walked over to the access hatch, slowly unhooked it and leaned out, craned his neck looking, turned, "nothin, just the win. . . ." his words turning into a scream as a large clawed foot reached in and grabbed him by his head, crushing it, dropping the body to the floor.

Panic ensued, the remaining gunner rushing to turn the gun toward the hatch, when the tin roof peeled back, held by sharp claws, revealing a monstrous head, like a giant lizard with sleeked back horns and long fangs. The man screamed, and the wide mouth grabbed him, bit down and dropped him to the loft floor.

Meanwhile, three much smaller furry creatures attacked from the shadows near where Mitch had found that loose board, and so did Garrison and Chief, Actor taking the time to slice the ropes from Goniff's hands. The first men who went down yielded their rifles to the team, though not by choice, and while Goniff crouched over the semi-conscious Casino, guarding him from the mahem surrounding them, taking a shot when the way was clear, the battle was soon over. 

Garrison looked around, gathered his team to him with one fast command, and they stood together, eyeing the three fierce-looking, what, dogs, wolves?, facing them; eyeing in disbelief the huge creature now crouched on the loft floor, then with a hop, on the floor across the room from them. One of the furry creatures dashed into a dark corner behind some crates, and a voice rang out, "Actor, throw me your shirt, will you?" and in a daze he did so, and moments later, one of the O'Donnell women walked out, still buttoning that shirt that was long enough to reach at least to her mid thighs, which was better than anything from the others would have done since he was the tallest, seeing as how it appeared the shirt was the only thing she was wearing. 

Craig started to say, he wasn't sure what, something, when he saw his Englishman, walking as if in a trance toward the huge creature who'd taken out the machine gun crew. In shock he yelled, desperately, "Goniff! Stop! Get back here!" to find himself totally ignored. The short slender blond reached a spot directly in front of the fearsome creature who was watching him so carefully, tilted his head far back and looked up to the sapphire and gold and green head and neck, bent to the side and looked along her length, at her bat-like wings in irridescent green, at her arched and curving tail of the same color; bent down and looked up and under, where the color faded to turquoise and gold, and then stood back up, and reached out one long hand to touch the green and gold scales, with traces of peacock blue, his mobile, expressive face changing, shifting, considering with every change of his mind, his every emotion.

The men held their breath, afraid they were going to see him ripped to shreds, and then, "Bloody 'ell, she's gorgeous!" he said in an awed voice, and then louder, gleefully, "Craig, she's a ruddy beauty, she is!" and stroked his fingers down the scales on the wide chest in front of him, careful not to nick them on the sharp edges, while the dragon twisted her neck down to bring her head down in front of his, opened that fearsome mouth, giving them all a good look at those long fangs and sharp teeth, and a long, delicate tongue, like that of a bird, came out to lick from the base of his throat, around his neck to just under his ear, then up the side of his face ending at his temple. He laughed with delight, "that tickles, luv," only to have her nudge him with her head and repeat the licking. 

Ciena, the one in the shirt, shook her head, gently chiding her, "Sister, get your mind back on business," only to be ignored in turn as Goniff wrapped his arms around that massive head, and of all things, scratched gently behind the tiny ears, stroked those long sapphire blue horns. It almost sounded like she was purring now, and her whirling gold-brown eyes were half-lidded in pleasure.

One of the furry ones had disappeared and returned dragging a pack, back into that same dark corner; the other followed, and soon Caeide and Coura came out, tucking in shirts, fastening buttons. Garrison was beyond even asking questions, Actor was still watching, stunned, at Goniff making over that big scaled head to the obvious delight of both of them, and Chief was looking as amused as anyone could remember seeing him. He was remembering Casino expressing his bewilderment at the pairing of Goniff and Meghada, saying "it's like watching a canary and a crocodile cuddling, know what I mean?" wishing the safecracker was awake to see THIS! He took a quick look at their teammate on the ground, to see Casino's wide open eyes, still dazed, staring at the sight, and Chief grinned to himself, wondering how much of this the injured man would remember, would LET himself remember. 

"We need to get the others out, and we can't do that til she Changes. What's the hangup?" Coura asked impatiently.

Ciena gave a snort, not even trying to hide her amusement, "hell, she's 'busy', can't you see??!" The sisters looked at the Dragon, cuddling, now using that long delicate tongue down the front of his tunic top, to good advantage, based on the sounds, the wiggling, the laughing protest now coming from the small blond man tucked up so close to her.

"Meghada? Come on now," to get an odd multi-part trilling hiss in return, at which all three sisters laughed in spite of themselves, "yes, I'm sure he does, to both, but now isn't the time. Save it for later. We've work to do," Caeide told her, while Ciena walked closer.

"Look, her eyes, see? She's drunk! Or if not drunk, sure getting there fast."

She turned to Garrison, "can you get him back over here? We need her to Change, and if she gets too far clamber-skulled, she won't be able to. We can explain away a lot, but frankly, it's going to be a bit challenging if she's still like this when we release the guards!"

"You say she's drunk??!"

"On him, on him and the Change which I think is probably one of very few in several years, but mostly just on him, his taste, his scent; when she's like this, in this form, she's even more vulnerable, more susceptible to him than she usually is, if you can imagine THAT!!" with a snicker, since to her mind her sister was totally besotted with the man on any ordinary day!

She tried to put in into words the young office might understand, "think of it as pouring down shot after shot after shot of really high proof bourbon, really quickly," and Garrison just stared, imagining his slender, sleek pickpocket as a bottle of the very best Kentucky bourbon, and suddenly that didn't seem so strange a thought, and he realized he REALLY needed some sleep! He now walked slowly, very cautiously toward the two.

"Goniff, you need to come away so she can Change; it's going to be dangerous for her if she doesn't, you don't want that," and was relieved to see his words get through. With one last reluctant caress, the Englishman moved back and away, getting a little cry of yearning from the dragon. 

"Little Sister, do it and do it now! We've things to get done!" came the crisp order from Caeide, and with a rustling and a huge shiver, the Dragon was gone, only a very naked woman huddled on the floor. The sisters rushed to get clothes to her, and helped her to her feet. Garrison could see she was swaying slightly, with a slight smile on her face, and her eyes were indeed more than a bit disoriented, but they quickly fixed on Goniff, who went forward to pull her into his arms, holding her tight.

He crooned to her, "coo, luv, I never thought you'd be so . . ." and the croon he got in return, well there was still something of the trilling hiss within it, and the long, sliding kiss she gave, it started at the base of his neck up over his cheek ending at his temple, just the tip of her tongue showing.

Garrison shook his head briskly, pretending with great determination that none of the last few minutes had happened, and moved to the door behind which he would find the Mansion guards. They had to move fast; the other members of the invaders might arrive at any time with those extra trucks.

In the end, it was only Sergeant Major Gil Rawlins, Private Jenkins and Private Perkins locked away. The other guards had been ordered back to Base by the Major, and had come to no harm. They hadn't seen the leader or any of the others too clearly, and that's what the erstwhile Major had depended on; that left fewer to deal with, fewer bodies later on. Those three, though, they were in the Mansion when the Major and his men swarmed it, and they were locked away, tied, blindfolded, to wait for whatever was to come. They hadn't heard much from the other room; oh, they knew Garrison and the team had been captured, and lots of sound and fury, but nothing that made too much sense. {"Thank goodness!"} Garrison thought, relieved. He didn't have a clue how he'd have explained what went down tonight. 

"Gil, look like you took a battering. What about your men?"

"Some bruises and such all around, but I think we'll all be fine, sir. More than we'd ever thought to be, that's for sure; we saw them setting that up, you know," taking in the machine gun nest up above. Rawlins looked up at the torn back roof, and the damage to the frame around the hatch, to the blood and debris.

"Think I might suggest this place be torn down, though; don't see it being worth the repairing, what with all that wind and storm damage; might be best to just have it gone. Odd, though, that just springing up out of nowhere like that," and Garrison nodded, knowing the damage would be hard to explain and Gil had just given them a hint. He knew Goniff would be more than happy to see this place gone, with its double load, now triple load of bad memories. {"Well, maybe only a double load; I think he has some now he's going to treasure,"} shaking his head as he remembered.

The Sergeant Major turned back to Garrison. "Just 'ow much of this do I want to understand, sir?"

Garrison looked at the noncom, "let me think about that for a bit; I'll get back to you," and Rawlins nodded, thinking that seemed reasonable from just the tiny glimpses he'd caught through the crack in the door. Yes, very reasonable. 

Well, they captured the guard at the gate, and the men returning with the trucks. The missing items, they were all discovered in that shed at the back of the property that wasn't used anymore, where the Major and his aides had been stashing them as they smuggled them out during their 'inspection visits'.

It turned out the 'Major' was nothing of the sort, but was a minor official with the Ministry in charge of such estates as the Mansion, one with access to inventories, lists, keys, and the like, though not the combination of that safe. He got his bearing from his father, for he was from a long line of military officers. His men, he'd gathered them for various and sundry places, some within the military, some without.

The Ministry was more than a bit embarrassed, had even thought to ring a peal over Garrison, saying his men HAD to have been a part of this operation. The testimony and support from the Sergeant Major and the two Privates had helped a lot, as had that from the sisters (that had been highly edited, of course), and the damage the men themselves had taken in the attack. The visits had been documented by the Sergeant Major in the log, the visits NOT ordered by the Ministry; well that helped too.

No one was saying a lot about the wounds on the dead men; while the knife and gun wounds were easily explained, and most of the others were explained away by the presentation of the three 'hounds' the sisters had staying with them, 'trained for protection', courtesy of a quick flight by private plane from the parents and their kennel. Of course, that led to several requests, even demands to co-opt the hounds for guard duty on sensitive research facilities, but the Clan was adamant about that.

"Absolutely Not! That was breeding stock, a new line, certainly not ready to be out and about; won't be for another two, maybe three generations! It was only lucky happenstance they were there for this situation, just being socialized a bit." Garrison remembered those bodies, shuddered, and thought to himself, {"yes, socialized, that's the word."}

No, it was the two machine gunners for whom there was no good explanation. Garrison decided to just flat out lie, by this point one more not making too much difference to his mind. "I was busy, gentlemen, I didn't see what happened to them." All of the others went along with that, and finally it was determined that the 'strong gust of wind that tore open the metal and wooden roof at such an unusual angle, well, the men must have gotten caught in all that." That made no sense, of course, but since no one could come up with anything else, including the medical examiners, it was laid to rest.

"Your sisters said it's been years."

"Yes, of course, with just a few exceptions, like that time with General Schwartzkoff, and that was in a heavy fog, if you remember." ('Through A Mist Blindly). Garrison looked with some suspicion at the sly knowing grin on Goniff's face before moving his attention back to the woman in front of him.

"Well, what with airplanes, anti-aircraft artillery, observatories, telescopes, all else with the modern world, there just aren't too many places with the freedom, the space. Maybe that's why there are so few of us being born anymore, the big flyers, certainly fewer than there once was. I am the only Dragon of my generation; there are a very few others, not Dragons, but big flyers of a different sort, and I don't think any of us have changed more than two or three times."

"It was a risk, doing it now, too much of a risk," he said firmly. She smiled into his green eyes, and touched his chest with a gentle hand, smoothing the golden hair running downwards toward his trim waist, "a risk, yes, not too much of a risk, not when you all were in such danger, when there was no other way. If they hadn't brought in that gun, then, probably not, the sisters and I could have handled them with all of you in the fight, but with that, the risk was necessary," and she kissed him gently.

Arms snaked around her waist from the rear, "thank you, luv, just in case I 'aven't said that," as Goniff dropped a warm kiss to her neck. His eyes met Craig's over her shoulder, acknowledging what he'd thought had been lost, just what had been saved.

"And from me too," Garrison told her, and she laughed, shaking her head.

"You've both said that, several times, and as I've said, you are most welcome. I couldn't have done anything else, none of us could have. You are both, are all, most dear to us, you know," rubbing her head back against the shoulder of the flaxen-haired man holding her. 

"Promise me . . ." and Goniff paused, and she looked back over her shoulder, "what, love?"

"Promise you'll let me see you that way again, sometime, someplace where it's safe, when there's more time. Don't think I took it all in rightly, and I really want to. Never seen anything so beautiful, not ever."

She laughed again, "I promise I will if I can; perhaps we'll make a visit to Haven after the war; there's room enough there," but then got a teasing pout to her lips, and a bit of a mock hurt tone to her voice. "I think you like her better than you like me, though. I think I'm just a bit jealous," and the two men in her bed protested, rapidly and fervently, and took the rest of the night to reassure her that they liked her just fine this way, without a doubt. And that little croon of hers, well, they could still hear just a bit of a trill, a hiss, and they both smiled at her, their Dragon.

Chief and the others watched Casino carefully, waiting for him to say something, anything, but it didn't happen right away. It was weeks later, then they were all sitting around at the pub, laughing about the latest prank they'd played on the Sergeant Major.

"Yay'd think he would've known where to look, ain't the first time we stashed his laundry in there! Man's just got no imagination," he snorted. Then he got just a bit of a frown, "could be he's lucky that way, though. Sometimes an imagination just gets ta runnin away with ya, ya know?" and they looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

He looked around the table and flushed, "well, with that phony Major and all, you'd never believe what I thought I saw that night," shaking his head. He never understood the round of hilarity that swept the table, but put it out of his mind when Garrison bought another round. 

And that low growl, that young mastiff the Major had brought with him as a guard, not that she'd ever understood exactly what or whom she was supposed to be guarding, or guarding against? Well, she went to join Lupan and Felane at their home, not as a scent hound, but as a family companion, and she lived out her years in a comfort and belonging she'd never known before.

She never did know quite what to think about what she'd seen behind the shrubs that night her life changed so much for the better, but it gave her something to think on, those long quiet evenings laying on that rug in front of the fire, with her people gathered around. Well, before she'd always thought skin was skin, furry was furry and things pretty much stayed that way. To discover it didn't always, well, that had been most interesting, most worthy of some thought.

She still found it interesting, even after all that time, even though she'd seen others do the same thing here, from time to time, with no one seeming to think anything of it. She'd tried hard to see if she could do the same thing, and it seems she just couldn't, but still, she did find it interesting.


End file.
